Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
"I don't date cops, Easton," I say quietly, dropping my gaze to my lap.
"Good to know," he murmurs, stretching forward. A split second later, I feel his fingers slide beneath my chin, tipping my face up toward his. He's a lot closer than I expected, practically hovering over me, his cup on the console beside him. His lips are inches from mine, so close I smell the coffee on his breath. I see little flecks of blue in his eyes. "I'm not asking you to date a cop, Molly."
I lick my lips, staring at him as confusion swirls through me.
"I'm telling you that you're going to marry one. Me."
"Easton," I whisper, my heart thudding against my ribcage so loud I'm sure he probably hears it.
"I get that your dad was a cop," he says, brushing his thumb along my bottom lip. "I get that whatever bullshit he did made my job here a helluva lot more difficult than it needs to be. But my dad is a cop, too, princess. And unlike yours, he didn't fuck around on my mom. That's the man I aspire to be. He's my role model, not guys like your dad."
"I…" I blink at him again. "Your dad is a cop?"
"Federal agent." He smiles. "He worked for the DTF here in Texas before he was transferred to Seattle. He's the SAIC of the office there."
"I didn't know that," I whisper.
"I know you didn't, baby. That's why I'm telling you now." His thumb slides across my bottom lip again. "I'm not like your dad or any other asshole with a badge you've met. I'm just Easton."
For some reason, I think that might be what scares me the most. But he doesn't give me time to think about that before he leans down, touching his lips to mine. I think he intends for his kiss to be soft, a simple punctuation at the end of his statement. But my traitorous tongue darts out, desperate to touch…to taste.
It flicks his bottom lip, and he groans like a dying man. His hands lock down on the arms of my chair, trapping me in place.
"Do that again," he rasps.
I obey that gravelly command on instinct, my tongue darting out to touch his bottom lip again.
He growls, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth.
A bolt of white-hot desire rips through me. I sob wordlessly, sloshing coffee over my hand. He grabs my cup, prying it from my fingers. I lose track of it then, lose track of everything but the way his mouth moves over mine, stealing my breath.
"Goddamn," he growls against my lips, thrusting his tongue into my mouth to tangle with mine. "That sweet fucking mouth…"
I whimper, my nails digging into his forearms as he consumes me alive, annihilating my defenses and every damn chance I have of resisting him. God help me, he kisses me like he can't live without me, and the only thing I can do is kiss him back the exact same way.
"Shit." He rips his mouth from mine, breathing hard.
Then and only then do I hear the 911-line blaring through the room. My heart jolts against my ribcage, mortification rushing through me. I grab the phone, my cheeks blazing with heat.
"911, where is your emergency?" I ask, my voice shaking.
"2187 Bluebird Lane," a man says. "There's a raccoon in my living room! It just stole my damn dog's food!"
"2187 Bluebird Lane?" I confirm.
"Yes. I need help getting this crazy thing out of here," he says, panting for breath. "As soon as I get the little bugger cornered, he starts throwing shit at me."
"I'm sorry. Did you say the racoon is throwing things at you?" I ask, spinning to put the call on the board. It's not the craziest thing I've heard. Honestly…it's not even on the list.
"Jesus Christ," Easton mutters behind me, shifting around. I don't look at him though. I can't. He just kissed me at work. That can't happen. This job…my career and his…they're too damn important for us to risk it because we were being stupid and got carried away.
It doesn't matter if I do like him. It doesn't even matter if I believe him when he says he isn't like my dad or guys like him. All that matters is that we can't do that again. Not here. Not ever.
I finish putting the call in, encouraging the caller to stay far away from the racoon until I get someone there to help him trap it, and then disconnect before slowly turning to face Easton.
"Molly, I…"
"That can't happen again," I say, my voice soft but firm. "I don't date cops for a reason, Easton. This is one of those reasons."
"Princess, I didn't mean for that—"
"You have a call."
He growls a curse, glaring at me. "You done now, baby? Because I have something to say."